Dancing in the Moonlight: A Collection
by houndoomandgloom
Summary: A collection of ficlets, drabbles, and prompts about Will and Karen! Ratings vary by story, but won't go past T.
1. Happy Birthday

_**Written for a prompt by my beautiful friend, the incredible and talented jacejosujura! **_

_**Will gets his daughter, Winter, her first Pokémon.**_

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><p>"You promise you're being a good girl and not peeking?"<p>

Winter giggled. "Yes, daddy!"

"Uh-huh," Will grinned, not entirely convinced. "That's why Mommy has to keep her hand over your eyes."

He could have been holding a snow globe in his hand. The Poké Ball was liquid blue, shimmery and oddly translucent. It glimmered peacefully in the center of his palm, echoing the snow that softly fluttered outside their home. It always seemed to flurry on Winter's birthday, and her eighth was no exception.

Will rolled the ball in his palm once and it expanded to fill his hand. He exchanged a quick wink with his wife, who held both their daughters close in her lap. Karen nodded, and Will knelt down on one knee, leveling himself with his oldest.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes!" Winter practically shrieked. Karen laughed, lifting her hand away from her daughter's eyes. She stared at the glass-like sphere in disbelief, taking it in her tiny hands with a bewildered look on her face. She traced the miniature designs in wonder, her mouth hanging half-open as she gasped, "Whoa. It's so pretty!"

"Aren't you going to open it, baby?" Karen smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of Winter's head.

"Open?" she echoed her mother in bewilderment. She turned the globe over in her hands, her gaze following the band of snowflakes. Winter's tiny finger grazed the large one in the center, and her eyes grew wide as the button shifted slightly under her touch. "Is this… is it…"

"Your first Pokémon," Will spoke for his daughter when her words failed to form. "Go on, snowflake. She's waiting to meet you."

Her fingers shaking with excitement, Winter pressed down on the large, glittering snowflake in the middle of the ball. Whitish streaks issued from its center as it opened into two halves. The light within danced and twirled, spinning to form around a tiny Pokémon. The light ebbed; a small Eevee stood in its wake. The creature's brown eyes were wide with wonder; her tail, which alone accounted for half her body weight, bobbed excitedly. The little Pokémon trilled happily, then leapt into the young girl's arms as if were the most natural of instincts.

"She… she's mine? She's really mine?" Winter squeaked, clutching the Eevee tight against her chest. The Pokémon licked her new trainer's face and nibbled at the at the ends of her hair.

"She's really yours," Will smiled, then laughed as she launched herself into his embrace, Eevee and all. He spun them around once, then fell back with them onto the couch. "I love you, snowflake," he said, kissing her hair, "Happy birthday."


	2. Finding the Words

_**Another amazing little prompt from my darling jacejosujura! If you like MTG or even if you don't, I implore you to go read her stuff immediately. She is a fantastically talented writer, and an incredible friend!**_

_**Karen walks in on Will ranting and raving to himself, trying to figure out how to tell her he likes her.**_

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><p>He had to tell her. He just didn't know how.<p>

Will combed his fingers through his long hair, messing it, and heaved a great sigh. He had a thousand words in his head to describe his feelings for this woman, but when he tried to speak they just heaped on his tongue.

"Karen, I—you are the bravest, smartest, most beautiful—no, no, no," he chided himself. It wasn't good enough.

Arceus, the effect she had on him was maddening! Her eyes made him weak, her smile made his stomach twist. To his ears, her voice was sweeter than any symphony. She was intoxicating, and he was hopelessly addicted to her. _So why can't I just tell her? _he thought distantly.

_Master Will, _a pleasant voice filled his head; his Gardevoir spoke to him through psychic bonds, wresting him from his thoughts about the dark-type trainer with the sky-colored hair. Her words were high and melodic, and on any other day, he would have welcomed his dear partner's company.

_I'm busy right now, Juliet, I'm sorry__,_ Will said, and even in his own mind he sounded frenzied. "Karen," he started over again, trying to ignore the way her name created gooseflesh up and down his arms. "Karen, we've known each other for a long time now and I…"

Will's voice trailed awkwardly. He framed his face in his hands and heaved another sigh.

_Master Will—_

_Juliet, please. She is—this is very important to me, _he said, clearing his throat. "Karen, will you go out with—Arceus, why is this so hard?" he raved, throwing his hands up to the ceiling.

_Master Will__—_ Juliet again. He ignored her this time.

"Karen, you know I really… if we could just try to… I just wanted you to know that…"

_Master Will, Mistress Karen has been waiting for you in the doorway for the past several minutes, and it would seem impolite to ignore her presence any longer._

All the color drained from Will's face; an obscenity slipped his lips. He spun around and, sure enough, met her smiling face. His throat tightened, trapping all of the words he wished he could say. "Karen," he sputtered helplessly, "Karen, I—I didn't mean—"

Karen laughed that haughty laugh of hers, and Will's heart folded in surrender. "You better have meant it."

"What?"

"You heard me," she smiled. A few steps closed the distance between their bodies and she looked up at him. Karen brushed a fingertip over his lips and he let out a small gasp; color flooded Will's cheeks and she giggled. She knew exactly the effect she had on him, and she enjoyed exploiting it as frequently as possible. "I like you too, silly," Karen said, placing a kiss just to the side of his mouth.

"You—what?"

"Isn't it obvious? Arceus, Will, you should really use that brain of yours more often," Karen chimed, a singsong quality to her voice. "Now, come on, _master psychic trainer_."

She took one of her hands in his, her dainty fingers perfectly slipping into the spaces between his. Will felt his breath falter. "Karen, wait—where are we going?"

Karen beamed back at him. "Our first date, of course."


	3. Welcome to Storybrooke

_**Guys, I just... I can't with this prompt. Don't be surprised if this turns into a series, because I had so much fun writing it. Another amazingggg prompt by the fantastic jacejosujura.**_

_**Will and Karen getting trapped in Storybrooke. **_

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><p>So this is how their world would end.<p>

This was recompense for interfering with its quarrel with the temporal beast, Dialga. Their otherworldly foray had to be stopped before it spilled into the living world; no human civilization could withstand that kind of war. They made their stand in Giratina's realm. This twisted hell was called the Distortion World, for it was a mockery of gravity and physics and time. As the tides of battle quickly brewed into a hurricane, the elite that still stood realized it would too be called their grave.

"This is all my fault," Cynthia's strong voice failed her as she stumbled back. She had been the first to sound this call to arms, the one who thought an assembly of the world's greatest trainers would be able to quell the fighting. She realized too late that nothing could.

"It isn't," Karen whispered. They were no longer sisters in prestige alone, but in heart, and now by marriage. "We can do this."

"You and Will just got married," Cynthia said distantly, her eyes glazed with tears. So many of her teammates, her friends, had fallen already. Even if they somehow survived this, she wasn't sure she could weather the aftermath.

"We will still be married when we get out of this place," Karen said, and Arceus she wished the confidence of her voice would calm her nerves. She would never say aloud that she was scared, she would never dare to cry that Cynthia was right, this was a battle already lost. No, she would fight until the very end. She had no other choice.

"Do you hear me, Giratina?" she called out over the dull roar of battle, "We're not afraid of you!"

The great beast oriented itself toward the ring of her voice. Somewhere from behind, Will grabbed his wife at her waist and twisted her out of Giratina's sight. He would be a fool to think his body could shield her from anything the legendary Pokémon could throw their way, but the yearn to protect her, however futile, was too much for him to ignore.

"Karen," he panted against the crown of her head, "You can't—"

"No! I can!" she shrieked, wrestling out of his stronghold. Tears burned her eyes, but fire smoldered in her heart. "I'm not going to lose this way!"

_Enough of this__,_ Giratina decreed for all to hear. Its voice was final, damning. The Pokemon reared onto its hind quarters, its maw gaping open menacingly. Violet energy pooled in the back of its throat, and its red eyes glowed ominously.

Will seized his wife in his arms and clutched her to him; if love alone could have saved them, they would be far from this place right now. Energy built in his fingertips as he attempted to knit together a psychic shield around their bodies.

"I love you," Karen cried to his chest. Her fingers crawled up his back and curled around his shoulders, anchoring herself to him. It was at death they vowed to part, but death was never supposed to follow their vows so quickly.

"I love you!" Will shouted over the chaos, hot tears streaming down his face as he hold her during what would become their final moments. The blast hit them with momentous power; the psychic bubble splintered as if it were nothing.

Karen tried to scream out in pain as the attack struck them, but no sound came out. The twisting void swept over them in a dizzying flurry and she dug her fingernails into the tops of his shoulders, desperate to hold onto him a moment longer. Her voice gone, she cried out to his mind.

_I love you, Will! I love you. I love you._

He didn't answer her. Her vision blurred and dimmed to black, and in her blind struggle she clung to him, to the erratic rhythm of his heart as it thudded against her chest. He was breathing, he was still alive…

_I love you… I love you… I love you… Will_…__

She didn't hurt anymore. Her senses dulled, her mind fogged. Why was he so far away? What was happening? Karen felt her breath start to slow, her entire being start to fade away from her. Her thoughts slurred, her grip went lax as they fell apart.

_Will… I love_…_ you…_

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><p>She woke up gasping, her long hair a wild mess all around her. It was the same dream she'd been having since… well, as far back as she could remember, but every morning it still felt new and startling. It always took her a moment to shake their faces from her tired eyes. They seemed at once so foreign and familiar, but she supposed that was normal when you've had the same dream for… how long has it been, anyway?<p>

It wasn't like any of it could be real, of course. Her name wasn't Karen, for one, and she'd definitely never been married. Those creatures, though, they were the strangest part of it all. What were they supposed to be? The only degree of familiarity she could find in it all was the horned, dog-like creature named…

"Salem!" she called cheerily, dismissing the thought from her mind. Her spoiled rottweiler crawled into her lap and licked her face happily, causing her owner to squeal and giggle. She held her dog close to her chest and lovingly kissed the top of her head, for the time forgetting all about her strange dream about a stranger world.

After all, it was just another day in Storybrooke, Maine.


	4. Always Remember

_**I'm playing through ORAS as Will and Karen's youngest, and since her dream is to be a Pokemon coordinator, this little one-shot came to be. Enjoy the adorable!**_

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><p>"You look so cute! You're going to be great, okay?"<p>

If only the belief Westlyn had in her Pokémon could translate into her own self-confidence. She was so nervous! This was exactly where she had always dreamed of being: Slateport's Contest Hall, home of the Pokémon Contest Spectacular. This was why she ventured far from the only home she'd ever known, why she'd decided to leave the comforts of Johto and travel through the unknown landscapes of Hoenn. Now she was here, and all she could feel was a belly full of Butterfree.

She brushed the last swipe of mascara over her Pikachu's eyelashes, and smiled warmly. Poppy beamed right back at her trainer, excited electricity building beneath her red cheeks. A pink bow decorated one of her long ears, and another tied together the little vest that came down the Pokémon's upper half and matched her tiered skirt.

Westlyn situated a small white mask over Poppy's face, careful not to smudge her makeup, and tied it in a gentle knot behind her long ears. It was a perfect miniature of the one Westlyn wore. Masks had all kinds of uses; she knew why her father favored them so. Right now, hers provided her refuge—even though it obstructed only part of her face, the masquerade gave the girl a sense of safety.

Poppy nuzzled her hand and Westlyn laughed as she gathered the Pokémon in her arms. She glimpsed the mirror one last time, checking to make sure that none of her lavender curls had fallen from their place. Westlyn always knew she wanted to be a performer. She could still remember stumbling out of her parents' closet in her mother's heels and her father's ties, trying to juggle Poké Balls and make Natu appear out of hats. Pokémon battles were fun, but putting on a show was _enthralling_.

Westlyn got up from the vanity and wobbled a bit. Years of shuffling around in her mother's pumps hadn't quite been enough for her to master the real thing, and her legs felt very hollow. She made her way to the door, her hands quaking as they curled around the handle. She heaved a shaky breath and eased it open.

The quiet of the dressing room was suddenly eclipsed by a raucous commotion in the main corridor of the Contest Hall. Westlyn very nearly turned and headed the other way; she could only guess that the ruckus was tied to some contest star, and that was the last thing her nerves needed to see. As she spun in a flurry of light purple, though, above all the ringing voices and camera clicks she heard something that made her heart jump.

"The Johto Elite Four? Here, in Slateport? Why in the world?"

Warmth came over her nerves in waves, and settled in the pit of her stomach, calming the overwhelming feeling of a dozen Butterfree flittering about in there.

"Pika?" Poppy seemed confused at the sudden change in her trainer's attitude, and bobbed her tail in wonder. Westlyn hugged her Pokémon to her chest and scampered toward the gathering crowd.

"Mama? Daddy!"

Will found her first, just like he always did. Ten years and he she was still his baby, the youngest of his little girls. He lifted her as easily as he had the day she was born and spun her once, causing all her lace and frills to twirl in a pink-and-white spiral. Karen stole their daughter away with as much ease, wrapping her arms tightly around her little girl. Westlyn clung to her with one arm, and Poppy squeaked from the sudden sandwich she found herself in.

"You look beautiful," Karen said, laughing as the Pikachu squirmed from her daughter's arm and crawled up her shoulder and onto the top of her head, nesting amongst her soft lavender waves. "You both do."

"I'm so glad you guys are here," Westlyn said. She'd glimpsed her uncles, too—Lance, Koga, Bruno. They were all here for her, and that meant more than the hoards of fans who had gathered for participants with much more experience and esteem. She smiled softly, but still she couldn't shake the feeling that she wouldn't be able to live up to the others. "I'm so nervous. These other contestants, they're so… _good_."

"And you're so _you_. You'll be perfect, bug," Will smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Mischief mingled in the violets of his eyes and he added with a laugh, "It's in your blood. On my side, anyway."

Westlyn laughed as her mother huffed and crossed her arms over her chest; her father made it up to her with a brush of his lips over hers, and their daughter rolled her eyes. There was something else, though, something that still made a panging fear rocket through her stomach. "W-What if I mess up? What if I'm not good enough?

"We all mess up sometimes, West," Karen said, lightly cupping her daughter's face. "It's not always about _being_ the best, it's about _trying_ your best. We love you and we're proud of you no matter what. Always remember, you're **our** Champion."


End file.
